


Sally's Turmoil

by definitely_not_trash



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, I'm bad at tagging stuff, Just a random thing right now, oof, this is kinda sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitely_not_trash/pseuds/definitely_not_trash
Summary: A short story (At the moment) following Sal and his strange past





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, at the moment this is just a short thing I'm doing on and off, but if people enjoy it I may start working on it more and have it possibly become a full thing. :)

It was cold, almost unpleasantly frigid in the room. His vision was blurred, and he soon came to realise his head was wrapped in bandages.

It was uncomfortably quiet, other than the sound of a phone ringing, the harsh incremental beeps cutting through the silence.

‘Hello…Who is this?’ his voice was soft, quiet as he spoke.

‘It’s okay Sal; everything will be okay,’

‘What...what do you mean?’

‘It’s okay,’ there was a long pause, ‘Find me,’ he didn’t hear anything but the long static beep that indicated the call had been disconnected.

‘That’s weird... That sounded like my dad,’ he let the receiver go, and walked away, walking towards the door. ‘Where am I?’ he mumbled to himself, frowning slightly. He wrapped his small fingers around the gelid brass doorknob, trying to turn it.

The attempt proved fruitless, the knob only turning ever so slightly before clicking, catching on the lock and preventing it from turning.

‘Locked,’ he muttered, turning to look around the room now.

The room turned out to be rather bleak other than the painting of a golden retriever that hung on the wall to his left. The air carried the heavy scent of blood, the smell thick in his nostrils, although he wasn’t quite sure if the smell was coming from the room or the bandages on his head.

A glint of metal on the floor caught his eye, and he made his way over to examine it further, curiosity getting the best of him.

‘Hey, it’s a key!’ he leaned down to lift it off the ground, the silvery metal smooth and heavy in his palm. He looked it over for a moment before walking back to the door, sliding the key into the lock and turning it. 

He let go as the gentle  _ click _ of the pins falling into place filled his ears. He then gripped the knob again, turning it and pushing the door open. It required a bit more effort than expected, the door being made of heavier metal that his youthful figure had trouble moving.

‘There, open!’ he walked through the doorway, a large slam following behind him as soon as he was out. He whipped around, finding the doorway he had just walked through had been replaced with a brick wall. ‘Huh?!’ he jumped, ‘Weird,’ He could see many doors down the hall he had walked into, each labelled with a different letter. 

He went through several doors, wandering around until he made his way outside, coming out onto a grassy hill. Small drops of rain drizzled from the sky, soaking into his bandages as he walked through the grass. The damp blades tickling his bare feet and ankles with each step he took. 

Upon looking around more thoroughly he spotted what appeared to be a headstone, along with a deep hole straight into the ground.

‘What’s that?’ he murmurs, cautiously making his way closer to it. As he came to the edge, he glanced down, trying to see what was at the bottom. He soon let out a shrill scream as he felt his body being pushed forward, sending him tumbling headfirst into the hole.

In all the panic of falling, he didn’t notice that the headstone read ‘Beloved mother and wife, Diane Fisher.’

He landed on the ground with a thud, surprised that he only had the wind knocked out of him as he struggled to his feet, slightly lightheaded from the sudden lack of oxygen. After regaining his breath he took in his surroundings, seeming to be in a different building altogether. 

‘Hello?’ he called out, his voice quiet, breathy as he panted to steady his breathing. He made his way through the hall, looking around at the dirty tile and crumbling walls. ‘This place looks run down,’ he mumbled to himself, running his fingers along the dusty wall, leaving a thin streak in the dirt and grime. ‘Gross,’ he continued walking, soon coming to another heavy door like the ones in the other building.

Upon entering he noticed this new hall was in even worse condition than the last, the tiles crumbling into small piles on the floor. The smell of blood was particularly strong here, seeming to be heavy in the air.

The door quietly swung shut behind him as he let go, closing with a quiet click of metal on metal. In the near distance he could see the faint outline of a figure, just standing in the hall.

‘Hello?! Is someone there?’ he called to the person, making his way over to it. The closer he got the more he recognised it, walking until he was just behind the person. ‘Dad? What are you doing here?’

‘You’re not my son,’ the man said in an almost gruff tone, ‘My son is not a murderer.’ 

‘W-what you mean?’ he asked, looking at the man again. He blinked and suddenly the man was gone, disappearing into thin air. 

He continued to walk, making his way into another section of the hall. As soon as he stepped closer to the area the scent of blood overtook any other smell. Turning to his left he could see where the scent was coming from, blood smeared along the walls, spelling the words

‘THIS IS YOUR FAULT’

In large, thick letters. The walls were lined with hundreds of mortuary cabinets, and it was exceptionally chilly here.

‘O-oh-G-God…’ he shudders, gnawing on his lip as he continued to walk. As he made his way to the end of the hall, he could see a single hospital bed with someone in it. ‘Hello?’ he peered over the bed, stumbling back as he was met with a familiar, lifeless face. His mother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I should break the parts up, no real reason other than that.

He jerked awake, shooting upright as he looked around the room frantically.

“Hey Sal, you finally woke up huh?” he soon looked over to his immediate right, his father seated in a chair by the hospital bed. He struggled to produce any words, shifting to try and touch his face.

“You must be in so much shock huh bud? I thought you were never going to wake up…” his father mumbled softly, gently patting Sal’s arm. “You relax okay? You’re going to be in the hospital for a bit while you recover, but hopefully it won’t be too long.”

Sal began to look around the room, taking in the bright white walls.

“H-hmgh-b-bi-bri-bright…” he mumbled, struggling to form the words, his mouth felt odd, like he couldn’t speak properly anymore.

“I guess it is, huh?” his father sighed softly, turning to look back at Sal, “How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice mellow and quiet, as if he spoke too loudly his son would simply shatter like glass.

“Hm-w-wei-wi-w,” Sal huffed in frustration.

“It’s okay...take your time,”

“W-weir-weird…” Sal finally mumbled, his words slurred slightly.

“It’ll probably be like that for a while honey…You’ll feel better soon, though. I promise.” Sal nodded weakly in response, shifting awkwardly as he tried to get comfortable, the bandages made his cheeks slightly itchy, although most of his face felt oddly numb, as if it wasn’t there at all.

“It’ll be okay,” his father mumbled, gently rubbing his arm reassuringly, “Hopefully…”

 

A month or two had passed since Sal was first put in the hospital, and he was finally able to have his bandages off permanently. He was finally able to see his face for the first time in two months.

“How do you feel today, Sal?” his father asked gently, giving him a soft smile.

“Good, a lot better than yesterday,” he nodded, “I’m ge-getting my bandages off today, right?” he tilted his head in question, blinking curiously.

“Yeah bud,” his father replied, “You are. We have...something...for you, just in case,” he scrunched up his nose slightly, almost as if it hurt to even say the words.

“Oh? Wh-what do you have?” Sal asked, even more curious now.

“I-it’s a surprise,” his father looked away, his hands clutched tightly around something in his hands. He glanced down at it, before looking back at his son, “Yeah...”

“Oh, okay,” Sal nodded, waiting impatiently for the doctor.

Sal’s father felt terrible, as sympathetic for his son as he could be. He couldn't perceive the pain he must be in, or put through. He tried his best to support him as much as possible, but it was hard. Very hard, sometimes. He couldn’t lie, deep down inside he was terrified of his son. His own flesh and blood. He tried his hardest to see past his deformity, to love him for who he was as a kind little boy, but it was so hard. He felt so bad, so terrible that he even thought this way about his own son.  His father sighed, looking over at the door now as the doctor walked into the room.

“Ah, good morning, doctor, how’s your day been so far?” he asked, shifting a bit now to look more fully at him.

“Ah well, it’s been fine, the usual,” he chuckled, “And how’s my favourite little boy doing today?” the doctor asked, shifting his attention to Sal.

“Good,” Sal replied, nodding a bit

in response.

“That’s great! So, are you excited?” he asked, giving Sal a warm smile as he sat down in a chair on the other side of the hospital bed

“Yeah, definitely!” Sal nodded

shifting to sit up eagerly.

“Alright, just one moment,” the doctor turned to look through a drawer, soon turning back to Sal with a pair of medical scissors, “Don’t move now,” he said, gently grabbing the bandages by where they ended at Sal’s chin. He slid them under and carefully began cutting them off, placing them into a bin as he cut them.

“Now, Sal darling, we-I don’t want you to get your hopes up that you’ll look exactly like you did before…” his father said gently as he watched the doctor cut the bandages away.

“What do you mean?” Sal asked curiously, trying to stay as still as possible.  
“Well, what I’m trying to say is just,” his father took a deep breath, “You might not look liked you used to before...well, the ‘accident’,”

“Oh…okay,” Sal mumbled, shifting a bit as the doctor pulled the last few bandages off.

“There! All finished,” he nodded, letting the last few bandages drop into the bin before setting the scissors aside so he could sterilise them later. “Just one moment and I’ll get you a mirror.”

Sal nodded in response, shifting to run his fingers along his cheeks, surprised at how rough and bumpy the skin was. His father watched him quietly, gripping what was in his hands tighter now.

The doctor soon turned back, an obvious look of doubt on his face as he gently handed it to Sal.

“There, have a good look,” he mumbled, looking away with an almost guilty look on his face. Sal took the mirror, lifting it to look into it.

Initially, he almost dropped the mirror in shock, his eye widening, “I-I-” he gasped, his hands now shaking slightly.

“Now...Sal honey,” his father took a shaky breath in, “I-I know you might look different now-”

“I-That’s not-that’s not me-I-it’s not!” Sal gasped, “It’s not it’s not it’s NOT!” he threw the mirror down onto the bed in a mix of confusion and shock.

“Sal…” his father gently grabbed his hand, “I-That is you...it is I promise. You just…” he closed his eyes briefly, “Look a little different now,”

“I-It’s-It’s not me dad-I-I’m scared,” Sal cried out softly, his breathing coming out in short, brisk gasps.

“You don’t need to be scared,” his father mumbled softly, gently pulling his son into an embrace, “You don’t. You’re still the same, sweet little boy...I promise, you just look a little different,” he gently rubbed Sal’s back.

Sal wrapped his arms around his father, burying his face in his shoulder as he let out a little sob, his whole body quivering.

“It’s okay Sal; it’s okay…” his father sighed softly.

“N-no it-it’s not okay it’s not okay-” Sal gasped, “I-it’s not me dad, it’s not!”

“Sal darling...it’s you, I promise,” his father sighed, gently rubbing Sal’s back, “Hey...if you’re scared I-we have something for you,” he gently nudged Sal to lie back down, shifting a bit now.

“W-what is it..?” Sal asked quietly, gently wiping the tears from his eyes. His father gently pushed a pale white prosthetic into Sal’s hands, “It’s a prosthetic...you put it over your face,” he felt bad saying that, he felt bed telling his son he should hide his face behind a mask. It hurt.

“O-oh...I-alright…” Sal took it, his small fingers wrapping around the sides of it as he lifted it up. It was a bit too big for his face at the moment, but they assumed he would grow into it.

“Also, your eye…” his father gently mumbled, brushing his fingers under the now empty socket, stitched over on the inside, “We’ll get you fitted for a glass eye once that’s healed over,” he mumbled half to himself.

“So,” the doctor cleared his throat, “Sal should be ready to leave today if he feels comfortable enough to do so,” he nods, turning to fill out the papers in the small bin on the end of his bed; a daily record of his healing progress.

“Alright,” Sal’s father nodded, turning to look at his son now, “What do you say, bud? Ready to go home?”

Sal nodded in response, quietly mumbling a “Yeah,” as his father helped him clip the prosthetic on, adjusting the straps for him before gently letting go.

“A little big, but it’s fine, for now,” he nodded, “I’ve got some clothes you can change into,” his father continued as he stood up, moving to look through the small bag he had brought with him.

“Okay,” Sal nodded in response. It was a little hard to see through the holes carved where eyes should be since the prosthetic was too large for him, but it wasn’t too bad. He wasn’t used to the new weight on the front of his head.

“Hey, Dad?” Sal asked softly, turning to look at his father now.

“Yes, Sal?”

“Where’s mommy?”

“Well, she-she can’t be here right now…”

“Why not?”

“Sal darling...your mother she-” his father took a shaky breath, “Your mother died Sal,”

“W-what does that mean?” he furrowed his brow, picking up on the sorrowful expression on his father's face.

“I-it means we won’t be able to see mommy anymore…” his father said softly, gently grabbing Sal’s hand, “She’s moved on to a better place now,”

“B-but why dad? Why can’t mommy come back?” Sal began to tear up, not fully understanding what his father meant.

“I-i don’t know Sal...I don’t know,” he mumbled, gently pulling Sal into a hug, a few tears slipping down his cheeks and disappearing into his beard.

The two stayed like that for some time, shedding woeful tears against each other’s shoulders.

Just as they were getting ready to leave the hospital, the doctor stopped them to say.

“Sal should be able to be fitted for a glass eye in about a few weeks or so, the stitched will have dissolved by then and you can have his eye socket cast, come back then and we can get that done,”

“Alright, thank you,” Sal’s father nodded, slinging the small bag over his shoulder now. Sal was still confused and upset about his mother,  but quietly walked beside his father as they left.

"Dad, what are we gonna do without mommy? It’s gonna be lonely…” Sal mumbled.

“I-I don’t know Sal. I don’t know,” his father gently rubbed Sal’s shoulder. Sal quietly looked down at the ground, letting the weight of the prosthetic drag his head down slightly

“Sal please don’t do that. You’ll hurt your neck,” his father mumbled, gently pushing Sal’s head back up.

“Okay…” he mumbled, quietly getting into the backseat of his father's car, clicking the seatbelt on and sighing. “Do I always have to wear this?” he asked, “It’s too big and it’s heavy…” Sal mumbled, wiping his eyes.

“For now, yes.” his father mumbled.

“Why?”

“Well, first of all, we don’t want any of your scars to get infected, even though they’ve healed, they still are fresh. Second of all..it’s more of a cosmetic thing...people might be...shocked?” he tried to word it as best as possible without hurting Sal’s feelings.

“Oh...Okay,” Sal nodded, sighing softly as he moved the prosthetic slightly, scrunching up what was left of his nose.

“We’ll have to stop at the Pharmacy to see if we can get you anything,” his father mumbled softly.

The car soon went quiet as they drove, the only sound being the hum of the engine. Sal looked out the window, quietly watching as the trees passed by. It was dark out, still fairly early in the morning, the sun had barely begun to rise, casting the trees in a dim, red-orange light.

"Dad?”

“Yes, Sal?”

“What time is it,”

“Four thirty,”

“Oh.”

Silence fell upon the duo once more as Sal let his eye close, sleep taking over him as he tried to relax.

"Dad, can I go to sleep?” Sal asked quietly, not moving from his spot. He was propped up against the window, his hair covering his face slightly.

“If you want,” His father replied, focused on the road, occasionally scratching his beard.

Sal had eventually drifted off into a restless sleep, his dreams filled with nightmarish creatures. They grabbed at him, seemingly trying to pull him into the pit, a dark pit, devoid of hope, he was helpless. Feeling himself get dragged down, his skin being torn apart as he was dragged, further and further, deeper into the pit.

He woke with a gasp, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, his hair clinging to his face. He looked around frantically, breathing heavily as he blinked his left eye a few times.

Sal soon shoved the blankets off himself, a bit discombobulated considering he woke up in a different place. He stumbled out of bed, steadying himself against the doorframe. He looked around, his eye having a hard time adjusting to the sudden bright light.

“H-hello?!” he called out, as loud as his small voice could. He made his way out of the room slowly, blinking rapidly now. "Dad?!” he looked around, slowly walking out now as he made his way to the next door down the well-

lit hall, gently pushing it open as he poked his head in. “Hello?” he looked around before closing the door, leaning up against it and letting his body slide down. Sitting on the floor now he pulls his knees to his chest, hiding his face in them as he let out a sob.

His body was shaking, and he was breathing heavily, tears flowing down his cheeks steadily now, slipping down off his chin before disappearing as they soaked into his shirt.

“Sal? Sal, what are you doing on the floor? Come on, get up now,” his father gently grabbed his arm, making Sal jump in shock at the sudden touch, eliciting a small scream from his lips.

“Hey...Hey, it’s okay…” he gently pulled Sal to his feet, looking down at him now.

Sal shivered, lifting his head to look up at his father, his eye red and bloodshot with tears, his cheeks glistening slightly.

“It’s okay,” his father said, gently pulling him into a reassuring hug, “What happened?” he asked, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I-I ha-had a-a-” Sal stuttered, struggling to form words, “A-a bad-bad dr-dream-” he said with another small cry, burying his head in his father's shoulder.

“Aw, Sally darling it’s okay...there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he gently pressed a kiss to Sal’s forehead, “Come on, you get dressed now, we’ve got to go to your mother’s wake…” he sighed as he stood up, gently nudging Sal towards his room before walking off himself.

Sal reluctantly made his way back into his room, shaking a bit still as he closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment. He soon moved to pull the clean clothes off of his dresser, slipping his old ones off and tossing them in the laundry basket before putting on the fresh ones his father had put on his dresser.

After making his way downstairs he quietly sat down on the small couch, looking at the clock on the wall as he tried to read the time, giving up as he couldn’t understand the Roman numerals.

“Hm…” he sighed as he swung his legs, looking around the room absentmindedly now. He turned to look at the stairwell as his ears caught the sound of footsteps coming down.

“Ready to go Sal?” his father asked, making his way over to the counter to grab his wallet, soon stuffing it in his pocket and turning to look back at his son.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, slipping off the couch and onto his feet, walking to the corridor to put his shoes on.

“Good, when you’re ready get in the car. I’ll be out in a few minutes,” his father turned to go and do something else as Sal slipped his sneakers on, doing up the velcro before walking out the front door, shivering at the chilly feel of the air.

The sky was overcast, clouds dark as if they were about to start pouring rain any second. Sal walked to the car, getting in the back seat and putting his seatbelt on as his father has asked him to.

He looked around, sleep still lingering in his eye as his father got into the car as well, glancing back at Sal to make sure he had his seatbelt on before buckling his own seatbelt. He gently handed Sal his prosthetic, mumbling, “You forgot this, honey,” before beginning to drive off.

"Dad?” Sal tilted his head, soon clipping the prosthetic on.

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

“To your mother's wake...”

“O-oh…” Sal looked away quietly, his eye wandering to the floor as he swung his legs, trying to adjust to the weight on his head. The rest of the ride was spent in silence, a gentle mist beginning to fall, a few drops of water gathered on Sal’s window before beading up and rolling down the smooth glass pane.

“We’re here…” his father mumbled, parking and turning the car off before getting out, quietly waiting for his son to do the same. Sal soon quietly got out of the car, adjusting the prosthetic as he did so, walking around to stand next to his father, who soon gently scooped him up, locking the car before carrying him into the church.

Sal held onto his father gently, resting his head against his shoulder as he was carried, letting his eye close. His father gently rubbed his back, sighing softly as he wiped his shoes off on the mat before walking into the building.

The wake went as they usually did, people giving this condolences, thoughts and blessings for the person and their family, soon ending in the funeral and burial of the body, everyone tired and sad.

Sal’s father carried him back to the car, buckling him in before getting in himself, driving off back home, his heart just a bit heavier at the fact that this would be the last time he would see his beloved wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I really hope you enjoyed my story, I'd love to hear your thoughts and suggestions in the comments, and if you guys would want me to continue this, thanks so much! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done for the people enjoying this! :)

A few weeks pass, and it was time to get Sal fitted for a prosthetic eye, his father getting dressed and making sure he looked at least semi-presentable before leaving his room and going wake Sal up.

He quietly opened the door, peeking his head in before stepping inside, making his way to Sal’s bed quietly.

“Sal, darling it’s time to wake up,” he gently shook the boys shoulders.

“Hn-I don’t wanna get up yet-” Sal whined back in reply, rolling over now.

“Sal…” his father sighed, “You’re getting your eye cast today, we can’t be late. Come on, get up please,” he gently nudged him again.

“But-” Sal huffed, “Fineeeeeeeeeee’-” he soon rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Get dressed, I’ll have breakfast made soon, alright?”

“Okay,” Sal yawned again, walking over to his dresser to get some clean clothes. Sal’s father left the room, making his way down the stairs to make breakfast.

Sal had noticed that after a while he was able to blink his right eye, as he wasn’t able to previously due to the stitch. He once tried to look inside but it was just dark and reddish.

Sal pulled some clean clothes on, tossing his dirty ones into the laundry hamper. He soon made his way out of the room, rubbing his eyes as he made his way down the stairs. 

“Daddddd?” Sal called out softly as he walked down the steps, gripping the handrail tightly.

“Yes Sal, what is it?” His father replied, his back still turned to the stove as he cooked.

“What are you making?” Sal asked softly, sitting down at the table as he watched his father curiously.

“I am making pancakes,” he said, turning his head to give Sal a warm smile, in which Sal happily smiled back, rubbing his eyes again. “Try not to rub your eyes too much darling,” his father mumbled softly, soon turning the burner off and putting the pancakes on two separate plates before setting said plates on the table, one in front of Sal, the other across from him. 

“Thank you,” Sal nodded, slipping off the chair to get a fork now, pulling one from the drawer before sitting back down to eat. His father watching him quietly, a small smile on his lips.

The two soon finished eating, Sal’s father putting the dishes in the dishwasher before going to rinse the pan off.

“You run along and get your shoes on yeah? Don’t forget your prosthetic, I’ll be done soon,” his father said gently, turning the water on now.

“Okay!” Sal giggled, wandering off now. He didn’t quite remember where his father put his prosthetic, he fell asleep before they got home and his father put him to bed. He wandered off to his room, looking around for where it could’ve been placed. “Dad?” Sal called, standing on his tiptoes to look on top of the dresser.

“What is it?” his father called back, still washing the pan off.

“Where did you put my thing?” 

“Oh, uhm, It’s on the end table by the couch,”

“Okay” Sal stumbled out of his room, making his way back down the stairs now. Sal found his prosthetic where his dad said it would be, clipping it over his face with slight difficulty before moving to put his shoes on. He slipped them on over his feet before doing up the velcro like his mother had showed him. He missed her. “Dadddddd I’m readyyy” he called out to his dad, shuffling his feet slightly now.

“Be patient, Sal. I’m almost done,” his father replied, putting some things away now. 

Soon, Sal’s father had made his way to the door, slipping his shoes on before opening the “We can go to the park later, yeah? See if we can spot any cool birds,” he gently ruffled Sal’s hair, soon nudging him out the door as he locked it behind them, fishing his car keys from his pocket. 

“Hey dad?” Sal made his way to the car, opening up the back door.

“What is it, Sal?” 

“I love you!” he giggled, clipping the seatbelt on before tapping his knees quietly.

“Aw, I love you too, bud,” his father smiled back at him, soon clipping his own seatbelt on before turning the car on. 

They drove for about 15 minutes soon pulling up at the hospital. Sal’s father parked before getting out, opening the door for Sal now. As soon as Sal got out of the car Sal’s father locked the door, shoving his keys into his pocket before gently grabbing Sal’s hand. He quietly lead Sal into the building making his way up to the reception desk.

“Hi, um-I have an appointment for my son to have his eye cast. Our specialist said to come back once the stitches dissolved,”

“Oh, yeah sure, just take a right at the last door into the west wing and you should see the sign,” the woman working at the desk didn’t look up from her work.

“Thank you, have a nice day,” Sal’s father nodded, gently guiding Sal forward now.

“You too.” 

Sal’s father followed the lady's instructions, soon pushing the door open to enter another room. He quietly bent down now, mumbling.

“Alright, you sit down while I talk to the receptionist. Here, you can play with the car keys while you wait,” he handed the keys to Sal, gently nudging him to one of the chairs before going to talk to the receptionist. 

Sal sat down, fiddling with the keys as he looked around the room, brushing a few locks of hair out of his face. He soon pushed his prosthetic up, yawning softly as he sighed. 

A few minutes pass, which seemed like an eternity to Sal, and his father soon returned, gently tapping Sal’s shoulder.

“Okay, let's go get this over with, yeah?” he guided Sal off to a separate room, getting him to sit in the chair while they waited for the specialist. “Are you excited to get your new eye?” his dad said gently, resting his hand on Sal’s knee.

“Yeah! Will I be able to see fully again?”

“I’m afraid not Sally,” 

“Oh, that sucks,”

“Yeah. It does.” 

Silence soon fell upon them, only being broken as Sal soon spoke up.

“Why do I need a new eye if it doesn’t do anything?”

“Well...most people get prosthetic eyes to feel more comfortable in public, or to look more ‘normal,’ ” his father said softly, “Some people get them to help cope with what happened, or to feel like they did before.” 

“Oh,” Sal nodded, “How can I ever feel like I did before?” 

“I-That’s up to you to figure out bud…” his father frowns.

“But how do I do that?”

“I-I don’t know Sally…I don’t know.”

There was a knock on the door before it swung open, a man soon walking in.

“I’m Mr. Abel; I’ll be your specialist. So how have you two been?” he smiled slightly, sitting down across from Sal and his father. 

“Alright,” Sal’s father replied, gently ruffling Sal’s hair

“That’s good,” he nodded, “Now, Henry I’ll have to get you to sign a few things, and then we can get this done!” he handed a few papers to Sal’s father, soon looking to Sal. “You’re gonna have to take off your prosthetic, alright Sal?”

Sal looked to his father as the specialist said this, giving him a questioning glance. Sal’s father soon nodded slightly, and Sal fumbled with the straps before pulling the prosthetic off, setting it aside. 

“Alright, one moment and we’ll be ready to go,” the specialist turned to look through a cabinet, searching for something. He soon returned with a syringe, an impression tray, and what seemed to be a container of a whitish powder.

“What’s that?” Sal tilted his head curiously.

“This.” the specialist held up the container, “Is alginate powder,” 

“Oh,” Sal nodded, watched as the specialist spooned a bit into a separate container, mixing it with a bit of water from the tap before scooping it into the syringe.

“Now, you’re gonna have to be really still, alright?”

“Here, Sal why don’t you come sit in my lap,” his father mumbled softly, setting the papers aside as he gently pat his knee.

Sal nodded, moving to sit up on his father’s knee. The specialist soon gently lifted Sal’s eye socket open, slipping impression tray into the empty socket. He made sure it was in properly before connecting the syringe squeezing the alginate into his eye socket. 

Sal squirmed, letting out a sound of discomfort as he instinctively tried to squeeze his eyes shut.

“Sal, honey you’ve got to stop moving-” his father gently held him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. 

“I-I don’t like it-” Sal whined, “At all!”

“I-I know it’s not pleasant Sally but you’ve got to stay still,”

“It’s all done, now we just have to wait for about 6 minutes for it to cure, once that’s done you guys can either wait here, or come back in about half an hour so we can get the positioning of the eye,” he rinsed the syringe off in the sink, “It’ll take about 3 visits before it’s totally done. So once we have the positioning, we can get you back in another day to have the iris painted, and then we can have the final eye fit and adjusted. Sound good?” 

“Sounds great,” Sal’s father nodded, giving Sal’s shoulders a gently squeeze, “Right, bud?” 

Sal nodded a bit.

“Y-yeah.”

As soon the alginate had set, and he gently took the casting out of Sal’s eye socket, carefully setting it aside as he took the papers.

“Alright, so I’ll see you in a half an hour,” he nodded as Sal slipped his prosthetic back on over his face, slipping off his dad’s knee now.

“Will do,” his father nodded, gently ruffling Sal’s hair, “How about we go spot some birds now, yeah?” his father said, in which Sal nodded quickly.

The two of them went out to the park, walking along the trails for a bit before sitting down at a bench, the sounds of birds filling the air.

“It’s nice out, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Sal nodded in response, swinging his legs a bit as he looked around, perking up a bit as a few birds landed on the ground just in front of them. “Dad! Dad look the birds!” he giggled, nudging his father’s arm.

“Calm down bud, or you’ll scare them away,” his father smiled, chuckling softly as he gently ruffled Sal’s hair. Sal laughed and nodded, sitting back as he watched the birds peck the rocks off the trail, swallowing them down.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Sal?”

“Why are the birds eating the rocks??”

“Oh, well, the birds don’t have a stomach like ours, they have these two muscles that crush up their food, so they swallow little pebbles to help crush up their food,” his father explained. 

“Ohhh, that’s cool!” Sal nodded, smiling behind his prosthetic. 

“It is kinda neat, isn’t it’?” his father nodded.

The two of them watched the birds for a while, Sal completely captivated by them until it was time to go back to the hospital. The returned to the room where the specialist met them first, greeting them as they sat down, Sal setting his prosthetic aside as he rubbed at his eyes. 

Sal’s father gently pushed his hands away from his face, greeting the specialist as he went to get the casting. The specialist soon returned with the clear casting of Sal’s eye socket, getting him to relax before slipping it into place.

“Now, can you blink your eyes a few times?” he said, getting a permanent marker from his pocket. Sal blinked his eyes, soon shifting a bit as the specialist now said, “Okay, now don’t move, alright?” He began to mark the positioning of Sal’s eye on the clear casting, soon gently slipping it out of his eye socket as he made the marks a bit longer. “Alright, so now that we have the positioning of Sal’s eye we can start making the proper eye. You guys can come back tomorrow, and we can have someone begin painting his iris.”

“Alright,” Sal’s father nodded, gently handing Sal his prosthetic, in which Sal quickly slipped it on, getting used to how the straps worked. “Ready to go bud?”

“Yeah,” Sal yawned softly, shifting to stand up.

“Alright, let’s get going then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sal’s father carried Sal back to his car, gently rubbing his back as he sat him down in the seat, buckling the seat belt before getting in the driver side. His father sighed softly, glancing over at Sal now.

“Oh Sally...what am I going to do with you?” he mumbled to himself before starting the car, driving off home. 

The next few days went by as planned, they went in, Sal got his iris painted, and they were just getting ready to pick up the final prosthesis.

“Sal! It’s time to get up!” his dad called from the bottom of the stairs. When he got no response, he grumbled to himself as he climbed up the steps, _ ‘What is wrong with that child-no, Henry no. It’s not his fault-’  _ he sighed as he knocked on Sal’s door, soon pushing the door open.

Sal was still fast asleep, sprawled across the bed. Most of the blankets were pushed off onto the floor. A few mumbled and sounds could be heard from the boy as he slept, rolling over slightly as he gripped onto a pillow.

“Sal. Sally, it’s time to get up,” his father mumbled, walking closer to the bed now, stepping over a few blankets. He gently shook Sal by the shoulder, frowning, “Sally…” 

“N-No I-I m-m-mommy-I” he squirmed around a bit as he mumbled in his sleep, squirming and rolling.

“Sally, Sal! Sal you need to wake up it’s just a dream!” his father shook him a bit harder.

“N-no I-!” Sal shot up with a scream, shooting upright as a few beads of sweat dripped down his forehead.

“Sally darling, it’s okay it’s just a dream!” his father placed his hands on Sal’s shoulders, moving to look him in the eye. 

“M-mo-m?” Sal cried out, shaking and sobbing now.

“No Sally no-I it’s dad Sally it’s me,” he furrowed his brow as he gently rubbed Sal’s shoulders “It’s me…”

“D-dad-d-daddy I-I was so sc-scared-!” Sal sobbed out, soon clinging onto his father as he buried his face into his shoulder, “I-I was s-so scared I-I saw m-mommy but she,” he hiccuped a bit, “She wasn’t mommy she wa-wasn’t! S-she was all-all red! E-everything was all r-red!”

“Shh-shh Sally it’s okay...it’s gonna be okay…” his father quietly rubbed his back, trying to get him to calm down. 

“I-” Sal took a wheezy breath in, gipping his father tighter as he tried to steady his breathing. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay-you’re...you’re gonna be okay Sal. I-It’s okay-It’s-” a few tears slipped down Sal’s father’s cheeks as he held his son, his breath shaky as he found himself struggling to remain calm. His father soon pulled away from Sal to look him in the eye, his own eyes glossy with tears as he mumbled, “Sal...Sally, it’s okay…”

Sal took a shaky breath, wiping his eyes now as he nodded, pressing his face into his father's shoulder. 

After the two of them had calmed down, Sal and his father ate breakfast before hopping into the car to head back to the hospital. 

 

“So, Sally. Are you excited to get your new eye?” Sal’s father asked as the two walked down the hallway, the only sound being their footsteps and a soft breeze from an open window.

“Yeah!” Sal nodded, smiling behind his prosthetic now.

“That’s good,” his father nodded, gently ruffling Sal’s hair now as he smiled a bit himself.

“Mhm-gonna see if it looks like my real eye!” Sal giggled.

“I’m sure it will, bud,” his father smiled more. 

Sal was jumpy with excitement as they walked into the room, unable to sit still while they waited for the specialist.

“Sally darling, sit still. Please.” his father laughed softly, glancing over as the doorknob turned a bit. The door soon swung open, and the specialist walked in.

“And how are you two today?” he asked as he set some things down, immediately moving to look through a cabinet. 

“Good!” Sal piped up before his father could even open his mouth.

“Yes, we’ve been fine,” his father nodded, gently ruffling Sal’s hair.

“That’s great! Now, I’ve just got to get your prosthesis, and we can have you try it on,” the specialist nodded as he left the room, returning only moments later with a small baggie full of what seemed to be cotton balls. He opened it up, gently holding up a glossy prosthetic eye. “Okay, so I can show you how to put it in and then you can try.” he gently slipped the prosthesis under Sal’s eyelid, moving it around until it slid into place, the lower eyelid fitting neatly over the top. “There! Have a look,” he said as he picked up a mirror off the counter, handing it to Sal.

Sal blinked a bit, taking the mirror and looking into it now.

“Woah…” he mumbled, blinking a bit more now as he swung his legs a bit.

“Let me see Sal,” his father said softly as he gently tapped Sal’s shoulder. Sal turned to look at him, still swinging his legs as he set the mirror down. “It looks great,” he nodded, turning to look at the specialist now, “Thank you,”

“It’s no problem; I’m glad you both seem to like it.” He nodded, “Now, when you go to take it out for bed, or if you need to clean it, you just gently press under your eye and it should slip right out. Like this,” he gently pressed just under Sal’s eyelid, the eye soon slipping out of place with a bit of pressure. “Now you try,” he said as he handed the eye to Sal, the boy taking it into his hands curiously. 

Sal soon tried copying what the specialist had done, struggling a bit before finally getting it, grinning widely.

“Good job Sally,” his father smiled softly, gently ruffling his hair as he turned to the specialist now. “So, does he have to clean it or sanitise it or anything?” he asked, turning his attention to the other man.

“He should wipe it off after he takes it out and keep it in a glass of water when not in use,” 

“Alright.” his father nodded, chatting with the specialist a bit more before tapping Sal’s leg. “Time to go, bud,” he said softly, standing up from the chair now as he gently pulled Sal up with him.   He helped Sal clasp his prosthetic back on, soon nodding to the specialist. “Thank you,” he said, glancing down at Sal, “Say thank you, Sally.”

“Thank you-” Sal mumbled, absentmindedly looking around now as he adjusted to the new feeling in the cavity of his eye. 

“You’re very welcome.” The specialist nodded, smiling a bit as the two of them left the room, “You’re welcome... _ poor kid _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to read your guy's comments to know what you think so don't be shy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while and honestly, I've been postponing this story because I'm working on writing a book at the moment. Here's what I had already written and I'll try to keep updating to the best of my ability. I really hope you like it. (Don't mind spelling and grammar errors (feel free to point em out) I haven't edited this chapter yet)

“Sally! It’s time to get up! I’m Leaving for work, make sure you brush your teeth and hair before you leave. Your lunch is in the fridge!” 

Sal yawned as he rubbed at his eyes, groggily slipping out of his bed.

“Alright! Bye! I’ll see you after school!”

“Mhm, and don’t forget to come straight back home after you get off the bus!”

“I know!”

“Alright, bye.” 

He soon heard the door close after that, the slam almost shaking the house as he stretched his arms. He soon grabbed the glass of water that sat by his bed, reaching into it to pull out the glass eye he’s come to know so well. It has been nearly 10 years since he’d gotten his first prosthesis. 9 years and 11 and a half months to be exact. Sal liked to keep track. He’s had it replaced a few times throughout his life, as you need to. He kept his old ones in a small box in his dresser. 

Sal ran a brush though his hair, it being about armpit length at this point. He decided he wanted to let it grow out after he turned 6. His father didn’t really seem to mind, as long as he was happy. Sal soon gripped the hair, pulling it back into two pigtails before tying them with a hair tie. He let out another tired yawn.

“Urgh, I hate school-” he slipped on some fresh clothes before walking out of his room to the bathroom, prosthetic in hand. He sets it on the bathroom sink, flipping the light on as he grabbed his toothbrush off the edge of the sink. 

Sal brushed his teeth, soon clipping his prosthetic over his face. By now he had mastered how to use the straps, and he had finally grown into the prosthetic. 

“Alright. Gotta put my lunch in my bag…” he mumbled, flipping the light off as he walked out, making his way down the stairs. He wandered off into the kitchen, grabbing his kitbag out of the closet as he made his way along, setting it down beside the table now as he rummaged through the fridge, pulling out his lunch before sticking it into his bag. 

Upon doing so a small slip of paper on the table caught his eye, and upon further examination it was a note from his father.

_ ‘Don’t forget to take your pills today. Have a great day Sally, ~Dad.”  _

Just on top of the note was 2 different pills.

“Ew,” Sal grimaced, soon swallowing them with a bit of water. He knew they were for his own good. That didn’t mean he had to like them though. 

Sal grabbed his jacket from the closet, slipping it on. It was getting colder out every day, being the middle of november it was understandable. Sal was excited, his birthday being in not even a month. He’ll finally be a real teenager, the big ‘13’. 

Sal slipped his shoes on, picking his bag up before closing and locking the door behind him.

‘Another day,’ he thought, ‘It’s starting to get really cold out,’ he watched as his breath came out from between his prosthetic in little plumes of fog, mildly amused by this. ‘Hopefully today will be better than yesterday,’ he continued to walk, ‘That sucked,’ he sat down on a bench in the little bus stop booth, ‘maybe we’ll change seats today, I dunno,’ he swung his legs as he thought absentmindedly, his eyes wandering around as he waited for the bus to arrive.

Sal soon glanced up as the bus came to a stop. He slipped off the bench as the doors swung open, soon closing behind him as he quietly greeted the driver.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he eyes darted around, searching for the nearest empty seat. He sat down quietly in a seat near the back, setting his bag on the floor just next to his feet. 

The bus drove for a little while, more kids getting on each stop.

“Hey  _ Sally Face _ ,” one of the older kids hissed as they passed him, tossing a crumpled

paper at the back of his head as they sat down. 

“Hey Marten,” Sal mumbled softly as he glanced at where the paper had fallen, hesitating a bit before leaning to pick it up. He uncrumpled the paper, blinking a bit as he looked over the crudely drawn version of himself with the word ‘FREAK’ written at the top in bold, dark letters.

‘I’m not a freak,’ he thought as he stuffed the paper to the bottom of his bag, ‘Am I?’ he swung his legs now, humming softly to himself.

‘Nah, they’re just jerks.’ he shrugged it off, wiping the condensation off the window with the sleeve of his jacket, the droplets collecting on the plasticy fabric.

The day went as usual, his normal classes, breaks and lunch. Sal hated lunch. He was never hungry, and it was awkward. As usual he got teased and picked on, although he was used to it by now. 

“Hey Sally face,” 

“Hey Martin,”

“What’cha doin?”

“I dunno…” Sal was staring down at his shoes, his mind wandering as he hummed softly.

“Really?”

“Yeah,”

“You’re fuckin weird,” Marten shrugged as he wandered off, giving Sal’s shoulder a slap before he did so, going off to find his other group of friends.

‘Weird...I’m weird…’ he sighed softly. Why did everybody have to be so mean? 

Sal hopped off the bench as the lunch bell rang, wandering back to the door to be let into the school. As the doors were open he walked in, bumping against the shoulders of other students as they all hustled into the school. 

Sal opened his locker, running his fingers through his hair as he slipped his jacket off, gently hanging it in his locker before changing his shoes and grabbing a novel for reading.  

Sal jumped as the final bell rang, loud and sharp in his ears as he looked up, the teacher reminding them of homework and other things to do. Sal grabbed his books off his desk, slipping them inside before making his way back out to go to his locker.

Sal changed his shoes, slipping his jacket on his arms, zipping it up before pulling his bag over his shoulders, making sure it was zipped before closing his locker, humming to himself as he pushed the doors open, wandering out to head off to get on the bus. 

The air was crisper than before, an almost painful sting against his exposed skin as he shivered, his breath coming  out in large wisps of condensation.

‘Wow, it’s really starting to get cold out,’ he thought as he rubbed his hands together, greeting the bus driver as he sat down in his usual seat in the back, routing through his bag to start working on his homework. Sal always tried to do all his homework on the bus so he could spend more time with his father when he got off work. He hoped that his father wasn’t going to have to work late again. That sucked. Sal had made a sandwich and went to bed by himself. 

Even after almost 10 years Sal still found the house to big really creepy when he was all alone. It felt so empty without his mom, as if he’d turn a corner and be swallowed by the darkness. 

‘I wonder what dad’ll make for supper if he gets home on time,’ he thought to himself, ‘maybe it’ll be something good.’ Sal continued to write, scratching his head as he tried to solve a math sheet they had been working on in class. 

 

Sal shoved his homework back in his bag as the bus pulled to a stop, standing up and pulling his bag over his shoulders as he went to get off, thanking the driver before looking around.

‘That went quick,’ he thought quietly as he began to walk off to his house, humming to himself once more to distract himself from the frosty nip at his fingers and ears. Ears… 

Did Sal put his piercings in today? His hand travelled up to his ears, feeling the small black studs. He had gotten his ears pierced a few years ago, deciding he liked the look of them.

Sal quietly unlocked the door, slipping his shoes off as he closed the door, setting them in the shoe closet before setting his bag down. He only had a few questions left for his homework, but decided he can do it later. 

 

Sal jumped up off his bed as he heard the familiar jingle of keys in the door, running off down the stairs to greet his father.

“Daddddd!” he called happily 

“Hey Sally,” his dad slipped his shoes off, grunting a bit as Sal jumped up, latching his arms around him as tight as a clamp. “You have a good day bud? Take your pills?” he gently nudged Sal off.

“Yesssss-” he groaned a bit at the question. He tried not to think about the pills. “And yes, I had a good day.” 

That was a partial lie, but Sal didn’t want his father to be any more stressed than he already was. A little white lie never hurt anyone right? 

“That’s good,” he nodded, setting his bag on the floor now as he shrugged his coat off.

“How was  _ your _ day?” Sal tilted his head a bit, blinking his eyes curiously.

“Long, long and stressful, Sally,”

“Oh.” Sal slipped off his father, the melancholy mood he emitted seeming to almost immediately dampen his own mood. He wanders over to the couch, sitting down as he swung his legs.

“What do you want for supper Sal?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugged, glancing at the clock. It was almost 5:30. 

“Well, you have to decide or you’re gonna get a sandwich,” his father walked into the kitchen now.

“I’m not even that hungry,” he mumbled, sprawling out on the couch now, his hair hanging down in his face. 

“You have to eat  _ something _ ,” his father huffed, glancing back at him now.

“I’ll eat later…” he said softly.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he turned away to get leftovers from the fridge.

“Mhm…” he slipped off the couch, quietly slinking off upstairs with his kitbag. He held it

tightly by the straps as he lugged it up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could. 

He pushed the door open, closing it silently behind him, setting the kitbag down on the floor.

“Urgh,” he sighed, flopping down on the bed, running his fingers through his hair. He

quietly pulled the hair ties out, letting his hair fall down over his shoulders. He trailed his fingers through it absentmindedly, wincing as they caught of small knots in the glossy strands. He laid back more, relaxing as he let his eyes close, drifting off into a light sleep


End file.
